


The Hierophant

by lilstrawbaby



Category: The Fall (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drug Dealing, Explicit Language, F/F, Female Friendship, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Past Drug Use, or perhaps something more, patient Reed, pissy Stella, surprises for Reed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:32:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7374586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilstrawbaby/pseuds/lilstrawbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing is ever as it appears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stella's Secret

**Author's Note:**

> This bitch has been a labor of love I've spent months working on (and still haven't completed yet), so here's hoping it's not a complete pile of shit.

"You're going _where_?" Reed stared at Gibson, her mouth open in shock. "Why? What about Spector and Anderson? Aren't you even the least bit curious about the outcome?"

"Of course I am, Reed, but I have to go home. There's an emergency I have to deal with."

"Is everything all right? Will you be coming back?"

"Yes, of course I will. This isn't over. Spector would never do the world a favor and fucking die." She smirked at the brunette.

"Stella," Reed struggled to contain her laughter. "I'll miss you."

"I don't know how long I'll be gone, but you can reach me on my cell if you need me. Give Rose my best, and give her my apologies for not coming to visit like I promised."

"I think she'll understand. After what she has survived, she's just grateful you caught the bastard."

"I was afraid she would blame me for dragging her into this. For insisting she recount her experiences with him."

"None of us could have anticipated that he would seek her out."

"I should have. It's my fucking _job_  to consider and have contingencies for all outcomes."

"You're being too hard on yourself," Reed chided quietly. She covered Stella's hand with her own, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Go, do what you have to do and come back. We need you to take the reins. I'm not suggesting the PSNI is incapable, but they don't have the experience necessary for this. They don't understand him like you do."

Gibson stiffened. "I don't understand him. Not even a little bit."

"I don't mean in the sense you're thinking. I mean you understand how he thinks, what his motivations and objectives are. It would take a fellow inmate in the asylum to understand why he enjoys what he's doing."

The blonde smiled at her companion, turned her hand so theirs were palm to palm, returning the gentle squeeze. "I'll see you soon, right?"

"Right."

^*^*

"What?"

Reed was taken aback by the rude woman who answered Stella's phone. "Yes, hello, may I speak with Stella please?"

There was scuffling in the background and the distinct and snappish sound of Stella reprimanding the woman for answering the call without express consent. After a huff and smart retort, she said crisply, "Gibson."

"It's me, Tanya."

There was a long silence. "Hello, Reed. How can I help you?"

"I-I was just checking in. Should I not call?"

"It's fine. Is everything is all right? It's not Rose, is it?"

"Oh no, everything is, well, okay I guess. She is doing much better, physically anyway. Her doctors are planning to release her to an outpatient facility to deal with the psychological fallout."

"Good, that's good news. I was concerned she would give up. Sometimes there isn't anything that can pull a person back from the edge."

"She has Tom and the children. She told me it's the one thing she held onto throughout. She carved the message into her arm for them after he abandoned her in the trunk. She was sure it was the end and she wanted them to know what they meant to her."

"God, what a clusterfuck."

"Without a doubt, but no one is blaming you but yourself."

"Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma."

Reed's eyes widened and she pulled the phone from her ear, staring at it briefly. As a mother twice over, there is no mistaking the sound of an infant learning to mimic sounds. And to hear it as clearly as she did, Stella was holding that child while she spoke with her. Returning the phone to her ear, she listened, hoping the blonde hadn't disconnected the call. She could hear her slightly heavier breathing, counseling herself to stay calm, not to push, that the other woman would reveal her secrets in time. Gibson had already begun confiding in her about some things and if she remained completely open to her, more would be revealed, she was certain of it.

Choosing to pretend she heard nothing, she continued. "Do not blame yourself, please."

"I've been having nightmares," Stella admitted quietly. "I physically lead that cocksucker to her and I-I just stand there in silence while he savages her."

"Stop it," Reed commanded. "I don't begin to claim to know what you have been through in your life or your work, so I'm going to spare you platitudes that will insult you. Have you gotten a new dream diary? I intuited that it helps you sort through the thoughts and feelings your subconscious is trying to make you aware of."

"Score one for Professor Reed Smith," she remarked wryly, but with respect. "But to answer your question, _Professor_ , no, I haven't replaced it yet."

"May I ask why?"

"I've been busy."

"Defensive much?"

"What is it to you? Why do you care so much?"

Reed inhaled sharply, hurt. "If anything, I thought we were friends. I guess I was wrong."

"Reed-"

"I'll let you get back to... _whatever._ Goodbye."

"Fuck!" Stella hissed, dropping her cell into the pocket of the oversized cardigan she wore. She looked down at the towheaded baby girl in her arms, a multitude of emotions coursing through her-affection, fear, tenderness, anxiety. For all this child represented, she found herself feeling the stirrings of warmth she generally kept at bay for her own protection. "What am I going to do now, Daysia?"

The six month old looked up at her with her own eyes, flashing her two teeth, melting Stella's heart completely. She smiled back at the child, kissing her button nose, chuckling as little hands patted her cheeks and a soft, wet mouth pressed against her chin. She whispered softly in the baby's ear, words only meant for her to hear. It was the same message she repeated every time she saw the child, which was becoming more frequent, much to Stella's dismay.

"What are you saying to her?"

TBC


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret of Stella's secrets is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Caroline, Daysia and Gareth.
> 
> Stella is dealt a blow.
> 
> Jim and Mary offer a show of support.

Stella sighed and turned, looking at the very reason she had been forced to return to England so quickly. "The same thing I used to say to you, Buttercup."

"Don't you dare call me that, not now."

"What do you want from me, Caroline? I didn't seek you out, I didn't ask to help you. I did and still do come running every time you call, however. If you do not wish me to be here, I will go, but don't bother calling me again."

"Don't go, please. I really need your help, Stella. I've done something stupid and-and it went balls up."

"What have you done." Her mouth was set in a grim line, her gaze unyielding.

"I-I got involved with some people. I was on the periphery at first, doing small, low-risk jobs. But then they asked me to do more."

"And you did." Gibson rubbed her forehead, her lips downturned as she wondered where the hell she and Caroline's mother went wrong with her. "What is it this time? Drugs again?"

"Yes, drugs. It's quick money and I needed it."

"Yes, because muling drugs is as much better life plan than getting a real job."

"If I do that, most of my money will go to daycare. So what good is a "real job" to me, huh?"

"Bullshit," Gibson snapped, glaring at the younger woman, "Your mother offered to watch Daysia free of charge on several occasions and you always refused."

"She is not my mother," Caroline says, her tone flat, her green eyes hard and her once-lovely features pinched.

She wasn't the happy, carefree child nor the bubbly, confident teen Stella had always known. This wasn't the child her sister had raised, and neither of them knew what had happened that turned Caroline away from the path of success she had once been on. She was unable to delve deeper into the mystery because the door flew open and in barged the last person Gibson wanted to see.

Gareth was the father of all four of Caroline's children, three of which social services had removed from their care and had since terminated both of their rights. She had known him since the two were nineteen, when he inexplicably sank his claws into her, convinced her to drop out of college, then to get pregnant so they would have a check coming in. By the time the child was born, he was addicted so badly to heroin, the monthly checks weren't enough and he convinced her to mule for one of his "associates." If they couldn't trust a pregnant woman ignorant of the drug trade, who could they trust?

Because of him, they had both been in and out of jail for drug offenses, Caroline had battled addiction herself, and her middle two children had been born as addicted to heroin as their mother. After another stint in jail because of the circumstances of the third child's addiction at birth, Caroline got clean and stayed clean. But she wouldn't give up moving drugs as a means of supporting her good for nothing baby daddy and his addictions. Testing clean was the only thing keeping social services off of their backs, that and Stella's silence. The only reason she was quietly condoning this was because of Daysia, who was thriving despite the people raising her.

"Gareth," Gibson greeted with a nod.

"Stella," he sneered, his words slurred. He was clearly under the influence, as usual. "What are you doing here?"

"Came by to see my lovely nieces."

"Aren't you supposed to be in Ireland? On that serial killer case?"

"I guess you didn't hear the latest. He was shot by a third party for reasons unrelated to the homicides."

"Is the fucker dead?"

"No, unfortunately."

"Well, shouldn't you be in the hospital pulling his secrets out of him with your voodoo mind games?"

"Gareth!" Caroline looked at him with wide eyes, obviously trying to communicate with a look to shut up.

"Well, it's true. One look from those cold eyes'll make a man wish he was dead so he doesn't have to talk to her."

"You'd have to be a man before you could speak for them," Gibson responded with faux sweetness and handed the baby to Caroline. "If that's all you needed, to confess your sins, I'll be off. I have an early flight to Belfast in the morning."

"Stella, no, stay."

"'Fraid I can't, Buttercup." She kissed Caroline's cheek and said, "It was nice seeing you."

Stella smiled at her niece and grabbed her coat as she breezed out the door of the tenement. In the hallway, she pulled her coat around her tightly and took the stairs to the first floor, not trusting the rickety bucket this place called an elevator. Once on the street, her shoulders slumped and she hunkered down into her coat, her head slightly bowed, but keeping a keen eye on her surroundings. She knew these streets and well enough to never take her eyes from the world around her.

^*^*

Stella told no one but Reed she had left Ireland. It wasn't their business and she felt certain nothing pressing would happen in the eighteen hours she was absent, if her silent phone (except for the call from Reed) proved correct. When she breezed into the station the following day, she wasn't prepared for the stares that came her way. Within, her confidence was knocked off-kilter, but she never allowed the outside world to see her feeling doubt. Instead, she strode to her office with a purpose, one hip at a time, her blonde ringlets bouncing cheerfully down her back.

"Stella!"

She paused and turned, dread growing in the pit of her stomach at the sight of Burns rushing toward her, his expression grim. At that moment, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. "One second, Jim. Gibson."

"Stella Gibson?"

"Yes, this is she. Who, may I ask, is this?"

"Apologies, DI Ed Greene, of the Met. You are a relation of Caroline Snyder, her Aunt, to be exact?"

"Christ, what has she done now? If she's asking for me, tell her I cannot be reached."

"No ma'am, she isn't asking for you. I'm calling to inform you, your niece was discovered early this morning, in the alley outside her building."

"No. No, there's been some mistake. I just saw her yesterday." She looked at Burns, seeing his anguish for her, and she knew. "Are you certain? How did you identify her?"

"She has a tattoo of three little monkeys, see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil."

"No!" Stella wailed, dropping the phone, burying her face in her hands.

"Stella. Stella!" Jim tried desperately to get her attention, but she was in a daze, dissociated from the world around her. He caught her as her knees started to buckle, calling for an ambulance, gathering her small body into his arms and carrying her to her office. The ever-efficient Mary, always was in the right place at the right time, appeared with coffee for Stella. She put it aside and opened the door to her office, quickly closing it behind the three to discourage further looky-loos. "Stella, Stella darlin', look at me."

"Sir, talk to her softly," Mary commanded, already dialing emergency services. While she barked orders into the phone, Burns placed Gibson on the cot she kept behind her desk, tenderly stroking her hair. Rounding the desk, she sank to her knees beside the older woman, taking her hand. "Sir, I think it would be best if you waited outside for paramedics."

"What? How dare you-"

"Please, Jim," Stella interrupted quietly, "I can't do this right now."

"Of course," he agreed, as if it was his own idea, "I'll wait outside. If you need anything, just call."

She nodded, remaining silent. She wasn't up for this, not now, and maybe never. Stella wasn't prepared for the questions he would surely ask. She had managed to duck them once, and she knew she wasn't strong enough this go-round to avoid his probing questions. It didn't want it to be any of his business, but given his feelings for her, she knew he felt entitled to answers and sharing in her grief. In a way, she understood-they had been very close once upon a time, not just physically but emotionally as well, and she still did care about him. She just doesn't feel for him what he feels for her.

"Ma'am, what can I get for you? Coffee, tea, a morphine drip?"

"Mary," she whispered, her face crumpling.

"Good Christ, ma'am, what did I do? I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

"No, it's not your fault," she murmured, squeezing the younger woman's hand affectionately. "I-I shouldn't have reacted that way. I should have kept my composure."

"Don't ever apologize for being human, ma'am. Not to anyone. You have every right to your feelings, the same as anyone else."

Gibson smiled at the mild rebuke. "I can always count on you, Mary. Thank you for keeping me in line."

"Are you all right?"

"Does everyone know?"

"Not yet. A friend of your niece's was unable to reach you on your cell phone, you were probably on the plane, so she called the task force line. They wouldn't confirm or deny your presence, so she, um, well, she explained the nature of the call. She was put directly through to ACC Burns, but only after confirming the protocol for such an emergency. Because of that, word spread, unfortunately."

"Before it's all said and done, the whole of Ireland will know my business." Gibson sighed and shook her head. "Maybe this will soften my 'cold British bitch' image."

"Excuse me for saying, but fuck them right now. What has happened is none of their damned business. You've earned a great deal of respect here. They aren't mocking your loss, that I can promise you. We feel just terrible for what has happened."

"They won't, not once they learn the particulars, and they will learn them because of the carnage-loving vultures calling themselves journalists."

"We all have things in our lives that could be an embarrassment to us if they were discovered, habits, family, friends, etcetera. But you don't strike me as someone easily embarrassed or shamed."

"No, I'm not. But much has happened in a short amount of time and I'm-I'm feeling a bit-" Stella paused, unable to find the exact words to adequately express what she was feeling.

"I understand."

"I think I'm all right now."

"Why don't we let the medics check you out just to be certain? You said yourself you've been under tremendous stress ma'am, it can't hurt to be safe."

"Only you could bully me into a physical, Mary," Stella joked.

"If that's what it takes ma'am, then I'll use whatever is at my disposal."

 

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The latest installment of the adventures of Stella and Reed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I have written for this story. At this point, i'm not planning to finish it, but I wanted the folks who asked for more to be able to read all that I had completed. Thanks to everyone who commented or gave kudos, I appreciate you taking the time. I hope you enjoy the rest as well. :)

Stella cannot say she was surprised to find Reed standing outside of her hotel room. The dark-headed woman had a kind heart and a gentle soul, and despite the cruel words Stella had uttered in their last conversation, she would still want to check in, to ensure her friend was, at minimum, safe. She offered a wan smile and opened the door, gesturing for Reed to precede her into the room. Letting the door shut behind them, she enters and drops her coat onto the bed, flopping onto her back beside it.

"Fancy meeting you here," she drawled, a smile in her voice. "What can I do you for, Croyden?"

"I wanted to check in on you. I'm so sorry, Stella, it's just-it's terrible." 

"Thank you for checking in on me. It's very kind of you."

"You make it sound so impersonal."

"I don't know what you want from me, Reed," she murmured, looking at the other woman with big blue eyes.

"I heard a song on the radio today that reminded me of you. It was after I heard the news, ironically, and if I wasn't compelled to come by before, that certainly did the trick."

"What song?"

"What?"

"What was the song?"

"Eyes of Blue."

Stella pulled a face. "Seriously."

"Have you ever listened to the words, Stella? I immediately thought of you."

"Christ, Reed, don't."

"What are you afraid of, Stella? The world may see you aren't made of stone?"

"Fuck you. You don't know anything about me."

"That's my whole point. You never let anyone know you. You hide behind a mask and play a siren's song, and keep yourself, your true self, away from everyone. On the surface, yes it's exciting, you're intriguing and mysterious and it draws people into your web. But people get tired of digging when they bear no fruits of their labor. I don't believe you incapable of feeling, but I wonder, do you even know who you really are anymore?"

"Is that what you want? The deepest, darkest secrets of my heart?"

"You're missing my point. I'm not-I want to know you, Stella, not your darkest desires. That's what friends do, yet you work so hard at keeping everything superficial. If that is all you truly want, then from this point on we will be colleagues only, and once you leave Belfast for good, I will delete your number from my phone. I don't do shallow friendships or empty promises."

"You've read my journal then?" Her tone was as cold as an Arctic wind, her eyes revealing her perceived betrayal.

"What? No! For God's sake, Stella, this is what I'm talking about. The roadblocks you throw up, the games that you play, the emotional paces you put people through, this wearies people and causes them to give up. No one can withstand the onslaught of becoming Stella Gibson's friend. And perhaps that is the way you want it." Reed rose and started toward the door. "I hope someday you will lower the drawbridge for someone. You deserve to have friends, real friends, because one day, you'll look around when you need someone most, and you'll find yourself well and truly alone."

"Wait, please. I'm-I'm sorry, Reed. Making friends has never been easy for me. Even as a child, I lived in my head."

"I'm not asking you to tell me your deepest secrets. I just want to get to know you, the real you. Unless posh, polished seductress is all there really is to you."

Gibson chuckled, shaking her head. After a time, she grew serious, meeting Reed's dark eyes with her own intense gaze. "I'm terribly out of practice, so I'll need you to call me on my bullshit."

"I can do that." She crossed the room and took a seat beside Gibson, turning her body into Stella's so she could watch her as she spoke.

"Caroline was such a sweet child. Even as a teenager, she was a joy. She was so loved. I guess because of our own childhood, her mother and I poured all of our hopes and dreams and the love in our hearts into her. Maybe it was too much pressure for her? That never occurred to me before now." She frowned, her lips turned down. "And now we can never know what made her turn like she did."

"Turn?"

Her eyes and tone hard, she said, "She met her ruin in college. He convinced her that the "easy" way was the best way. She dropped out of school, she got pregnant, she got on the dole, she got into drugs and was in and out of jail, then she had three more kids, two of which were born addicted to heroin.

"I looked into him. I brought all of my research to her, showed her he had girls like her all over London. Varying degrees of age, but all young and naive once, enchanted by his bullshit. He has enough kids to fill a cricket team with some left over. And all of their mothers are mules for his friends in the drug trade, most are addicted to something themselves. But after her last stay in jail, Caroline got clean and stayed clean. She had Daysia and was doing better, she was a good mother. Now this."

"What of the child's father? Will he get custody of the children, even though he's known to police?"

"They both lost their rights to the older ones. At the time, my sister was battling cancer and my lifestyle doesn't inspire social services to consider me for custody. We, well I, still have visitation rights to them."

"Your sister doesn't?"

"She passed last year."

"Oh God, I'm sorry."

"I'm happy her suffering is at an end. She didn't deserve what I dumped into her lap."

A warning bell went off in Reed's mind, far from the first. She had long realized there was more to Stella Gibson than met the eye, and as she listened to the blonde speak, she began to do weigh and measure her words, to hear the things she did not say, turning them over in her mind and began putting them together to form the whole picture.

"Is that why you returned to London yesterday? Because Caroline asked you to?"

Stella nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "She told me she had really fucked up this time. She was trying to tell me what was going on, but Gareth the asshole came home. She asked me to stay and I told her I couldn't, I blew her off. I asked her what it was this time, drugs again or something worse. If I had only listened, I could have saved her life. Daysia's life."

Reed pulled Stella into her arms and held her as she cried. It was eerily silent, except for heavy breaths and sniffles. She rubbed soothing circles on her back, whispering words of comfort and dropping an occasional kiss to her flaxen hair. Slowly, the tears subsided and Gibson quickly pulled herself together. The insistent buzzing of a cell phone caused them both to start. Their eyes met and they laughed, Stella brushing away her tears as she wrestled her phone from the pocket of her trench.

"Gibson."

"Ms Gibson, this is Greta Parker, I'm a social worker here in London."

"Hello, Ms Parker, how can I help you?"

"I was calling to inquire about your niece, Daysia. I was reviewing Caroline's file and noticed you had petitioned for custody of your niece and nephews, but were denied because of your position with the Met."

"That is correct. What, may I ask, has changed in your department's mind?"

"Your job title, ma'am. You are in a supervisory position now, are you not?"

"I am."

"You are no longer on the streets or primarily investigating cases?"

"No, not exactly."

"Can you explain?"

Stella frowned and looked at Reed, shrugging. "I work mostly in an office, sorting through physical evidence, statements and crime scene photographs, looking for something missed or overlooked connections. I often observe at a crime scene, but that is my method. I don't like to rely on second-hand information."

"I would like to meet with you if I may, Ms Gibson, to discuss custody of the minor Daysia Snow."

"What? When?"

"Tomorrow, nine o'clock?"

"I'm in Ireland right now, I won't be able to make a nine am."

"You're working the serial case up there, yeah?"

"That is correct."

"Can you be here tomorrow before end of business?"

"I will do my very best."

"Call me when you're in London, we can arrange a time and place."

"Tomorrow then."

"Goodbye."

She ended the call, covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh my God."

"What is it?"

"That was a social worker in London. Daysia is alive."

"That's wonderful news!"

"It is."

"Are you certain? You don't seem exactly thrilled."

"They are offering me a chance at custody."

Reed looked at her friend with wide dark eyes. "Do you want that? This is something you have to think long and hard about, Stella. Adopting a child is a huge decision. There is a lot more red tape involved if you change your mind and decide you can't do this."

"Thank you, Reed, whatever would I do without you?" She rolled her eyes but a smile played around her lips.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to patronize. But as a mother and a woman with a career, I want you to understand the realities and not go in blindly because you have suffered a loss and feel an obligation."

"You forgot the part about getting a second chance," Gibson joked dryly.

"So I did," Reed chuckled, shaking her head at the enigma beside her. "Are you going to consider this?"

"I am, if you can believe it.

"That's wonderful, I'm happy for you."

"Are you?"

Frowning, Tanya asked, "Of course I am. How can you ask me that?"

"I'm sorry." Stella massaged her forehead, lost in thought. "This is all happening so fast. I'm not someone who can't roll with the punches, but I'm beginning to feel overwhelmed again."

"I'm going to make you an offer, Stella Gibson, as your friend. Feel free to turn me down, but I'm hoping that you won't."

"Are you offering no-strings sex? Because I really could use a natural chemical cocktail about now."

"No," Reed laughed, "Maybe I can find a cute waiter on my way out though and send him up."

"I like the sound of that."

"Why don't you let me go with you tomorrow? I'm a friend, but I'm also a less emotionally involved than you are, and I think you need someone looking out for your interests right now."

"Are you suggesting I am incapable of making decisions?"

"Not at all. But you have faced a number of stressful events in a short period of time, which can skew anyone's thinking slightly. I just want to make sure you have all of the facts, understand what you might be undertaking, and have the necessary support system. No one is an island, Stella, especially if you choose to take in an infant. It's a difficult undertaking, even for someone who chooses it and has the support of a husband or partner. How old is Daysia?"

"Six months."

"Oh wonderful, she should be sleeping through the night, then."

"They don't sleep all night?" Stella looked alarmed at the thought.

"Not when they are newborn. They require feedings in the middle of the night. Even at her age, she might wake up for diaper changes."

"I'm having second thoughts already."

"Wow, that was fast. I never knew Stella Gibson could be bested so easily."

"Wait a minute, aren't you trying to discourage me from doing this?"

"Not at all. As I told you, I want to make sure you have all the facts in hand."

"I'm getting a migraine."

"Before you go all prostrate on me, call and book two tickets on the first flight to London. I'll get my credit card-I can trust you not to steal my identity, can't I?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Stella grinned cheekily.

"While you're doing that, I'm going to call my ex and ask him to take the kids."

"Aren't you married?"

"Technically yes."

Gibson's eyebrows rose and she looked at her friend with interest. "Technically?"

"Yes, technically. I decided to move forward with the divorce proceedings after everything."

"The plot thickens," Stella stated dramatically and wiggled around on the bed, sitting with her legs cris-crossed and watching Reed with the laser focus she reserved for interrogations. "Tell me everything."

"There isn't much to tell. We have been growing apart for years, I'm not sure either of us can claim to remember why we got married. I discovered a few months ago that for the past year, he's been having an affair. I wanted to stay together for the kids, but he has other ideas." She shrugged, her silky dark hair falling across her shoulder. "That's life, right? Control is an illusion."

Quirking an eyebrow, she teased, "I may teach you yet."

Reed rolled her eyes, but couldn't contain a smile. She gave Stella a playful push to her shoulder, giggling as the blonde fell back, pretending to be overwhelmed by Tanya's strength. She grasped her wrist and pulled her back upright, the two grinning at one another. 

"So? What do you think so far?"

"About what?"

"Having a friend?"

"I have friends, female friends. But none of them are like you. That I do like."

"What do you mean they aren't like me?"

"You're a breath of fresh air in a house that's been closed up for too many years."

"I take it you're the musty old house?"

"I should slap the shit out of you," Stella laughed, returning the shove the brunette gave her. "But yes, I am. Call your good for nothing almost-ex. I'll call British Airways."

^*^*

It was nearly noon as they exited Heathrow side by side, pulling their suitcases behind them. They took the shuttle out to the lot Stella had left her car in, and Reed followed as they walked the back forty to her car. Popping the trunk with the key fob, Stella loaded their bags while Reed started the car and turned the heater on.

"So Croyden, when were you last in London?"

"It's been a few years. Not much cause to visit with my parents gone."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"What about you? Was it just you and your sister?"

"Yes. Well, no. My father is in prison, he has been since I was fifteen, and will die there hopefully. He murdered our mother."

"Jesus, Stella." Reed laid her hand over the top of the other woman's, which rested on the gear shift. "Why? Why did he do it, do you know?"

"Because he was an alcoholic. One night, he beat and strangled her in front of us. I blocked Gayle from watching, but she heard everything. I stared him in the face because I wanted him to know I wasn't afraid of him. But you know how that goes, despite everything, I was a girl who adored her daddy. I still love him in spite of what he did." She shrugged as if it was no big deal, but her heart was pounding in her chest as she waited for Reed's judgment of her.

Shaking her head, tears welled in Tanya's eyes at what her friend had witnessed at such a tender age. Many of Stella's mannerisms made sense now, her aloofness, the fierceness with which she protected her privacy, how loathe she was to form attachments with others. As cliche as it seemed, her early childhood was marked by abuse, late childhood was shaped by the gravest of traumas, and she wanted nothing more than to show her friend that not everyone wanted to inflict hurt.

"Is that why you became a police officer?"

"No, that was a later decision. I was in college by sixteen, my sister was living with my mother's sister. I lived there until I went to school. She stepped in where my mother could not, she taught us never to rely solely on a man and never ever let him put his hands on you. It's why I admire Rose, she may have been down, but she wasn't out. After she realized that bargaining, flirting and begging would do her no good, she began telling him the truth about himself."

"If any man had ever had you in his clutches that way, I have no doubt you would have done the same. But skipped the bargaining, flirting and begging part."

"Men like that, anyone who treats another as such for that matter, gets off on the emotional turmoil, the psychic pain they're inflicting. I would like to think I would never resort to that, but in that situation, I can't be certain I wouldn't do exactly what every victim does."

"You wouldn't, I'm certain of it. Stella Gibson would never surrender."

"Hopefully, I'll never know." She maneuvered the vehicle into traffic and they rode in silence for a time. But Stella's uneasiness would not be contained. "Reed?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think I can do this? Should I just let Daysia go to a family, a real, whole family who can give her everything? I will be allowed visitation, as I am with the other children."

"That isn't for me to answer. What does your heart tell you?"

"I want her. I want her so badly it aches," she whispered, her throat suddenly tight with quickly suppressed emotion. I want another chance, she wanted to scream, but clenched her teeth to keep from revealing too much.

"Then I think you should go for it. The worst that can happen is you end up with visitation only."

"I can't let this pass me by again. I'm going to fight for it this time."

"You didn't last time?"

"Not as hard as I could have because a part of me agreed with them. I was in a position that could be dangerous for me, and if I were to die, could I in good conscience put them through another loss? Their parents weren't dead, but they might as well have been."

"I think you looked at the facts at hand and made the best decision possible at the time. And I agree that this time, you're more settled, in a safer position with work, and it is a feasible option this time to take custody if it's a possibility. I am curious though, why these children are so important to you. You've said yourself you have no children of your own, you don't seem to care much for them."

"It's not that I dislike them, I am unable to have them, and that is a painful truth I can never escape, so I tried to avoid them at all costs. When Caroline began having children, I saw a chance, a tiny one, but a chance to be a mother figure, for just a little while. I love those kids and they love me, which is more than I ever expected."

"It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. You know your limitations better than anyone else. If you feel that you can handle taking care of this child and doing your job, then that is the only thing that matters."

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"I guess so, but I reserve the right not to answer if it's too personal."

"Fair enough. What is your position on the idea of soul mates?"

"That's not even an original pick up line."

"It wasn't meant to be one. I'm serious. I have felt drawn to you from the moment I saw you. I feel as if I know you, and let's face it, we really don't know each other. But I feel compelled to remain in your company, to tell you things I don't like to think about, much less share with anyone."

"So much is unknown to us, there are limits to what science can explain, no matter what they say in a public forum. The most deeply rooted questions cannot be answered in a laboratory environment."

"So, is that a yes or a no?"

"A strong maybe, leaning toward yes. Because I felt the same pull, but I was never sure if it was real or that strange power you have over people."

"Power?" Stella sat up a little straighter at that, easily recalling Jim Burns' words to her. "What do you mean?"

"Honestly, I never thought it existed outside of tv or books, but there is something about you, something I'm not sure you're even aware of or consciously use. When you enter a room, the air goes out and everyone focuses on you. I've seen those kinds of reactions over celebrities or politicians or royalty, but for everyone to stop what they're doing and stare at someone who isn't even paying any mind to it, well, it's something to behold."

"Thank you?"

Reed snickered, "It was a compliment, but it's also a part of your mystique. What is it about you, Stella Gibson, that commands attention?"

"I don't know." She frowned and bit her lip. "I don't always mean to do it, if that's what you're asking. It's just always been. I try not to pay it any attention because I don't like it. I don't want to be noticed unless I choose it."

"Ah, the infamous curse of being a beautiful, powerful, successful woman. It must be awful to be you."

"You're all of those things. Why are we so different?"

"I guess because I don't necessarily know it, not the way you do."

Curious, Stella asked, "How were you so certain I was aware of it?"

"Because you ooze confidence and sex appeal. Perhaps that's what draws people to you, the utter confidence in yourself. There are so many women out there who would kill for that kind of confidence. Not literally, of course." She took a moment, debating on whether she should say anything, but decided to just go with it while Stella was being so uncharacteristically open. "After Jimmy Olsen, your dream journal, the Tom Anderson debacle, you seemed completely unruffled by everyone knowing, and people are jealous of your devil may care attitude because most of us actually do care, very much."

Stella couldn't bring herself to admit she honestly did care what people thought, what they were saying and thinking about her, because having the respect of others was very important to her. "All right, point taken. Do I come across as arrogant?"

"At times, yes. That's what men find so off-putting about you. That and the fact that you use them like tissues. In their minds, it's okay for a man to use a woman, but not vice-versa, as I'm sure you know."

"I do, all too well." From the corner of her eye, she can see Tanya watching her with curiosity in those big dark eyes. "Ask."

"What happened to you? Except for what they can do for you sexually, you seem to hate men. Because of your father, I can understand it to a degree, but surely you know not all men are like your father."

"Of course I do," Gibson responded tersely, clucking her tongue, pressing down on the gas and crossing three lanes of traffic.

"Of course you do what, hate men? Or know that all men aren't like your father?"

"I know all men aren't like my father, but to be honest, I have no use for them."

"Except when you want them between your legs."

"Yes."

"You do realize that is a close cousin to something many an embittered man has said, don't you?"

"Whose side are you on?"

"I'm on the side of honesty and right now, I don't think you"re being honest. Not with me, not with yourself."

"If this is what friendship is, I suddenly realize why I have shunned it."

"I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"That you avoided personal relationships of any kind."

"What do you want from me, Reed? Jesus Christ, you drive me crazy, and not in the good way!"

"It's not what I want from you, it's what I want for you, Stella. You have cut yourself off from the world and live inside your head, something I know you know is unhealthy psychologically."

"I am not cut off from the world. I spend time with my nieces and nephews, they are the only pure joy in my life. And until five seconds ago, I enjoyed spending time with you."

"And I know you know it's not appropriate to expect them to fulfill your emotional needs."

"It's interesting, because I just recently had a conversation about seeking appropriate people to fill emotional and physical needs."

Another silence fell between the women and Stella used the time to contemplate her conversation with Burns and the one she had been having with Reed. Stella knew that she relied heavily on coping mechanisms, she had from a very young age, and for all of her training, she found herself helpless to stop. As with the chronicling of her dreams, it was obsessive-compulsive behavior she wished she could end, but she was too proud to admit she had a problem, much less seek assistance.

"And? Have you?"

"Can we stop analyzing Stella? I'm not the only one with hangups, Croyden."

Tanya blinked and said, "I deserved that. I did lead you on and let you think I was open to an affair."

"Affair? It was one night. Well, it would have been if we had made it upstairs. Which, in hindsight, it's a good thing you backed out. Four definitely would have been a crowd."

"You're not open to orgies?" Reed grinned wickedly.

"To each their own, but I'm into one-on-one fun," she lobbed back with a grin. "And woman on woman doesn't ring your bell, I can respect that."

"I never said that, Stella. I admit, it was my first time in that situation. You are the first woman I have ever looked at in that way. But the fact remains, I am married and I take those vows seriously."

"I respect that, Reed. Honestly, I do. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but if I do, don't be afraid to tell me so. I know I've been teasing you, but it's just in fun, I don't mean to judge, make light of your feelings, or embarrass you. You have my apologies if I have and I'm sorry for the cross words I keep saying."

"I know more about you than you realize. I've figured out what you're trying to hide by the ways you try to hide it."

Not responding to her revelation, Stella exited the interstate, making her way through her neighborhood to her apartment building. They left the car parked in the lot and trudged into the building. Riding the elevator in silence, she wondered what Reed was thinking after noting her furrowed brow. She said nothing, waiting to ask until they were in the privacy of her apartment. Once inside with the door closed behind them, she noted the other woman's surprise as she took in the small, slightly cramped space.

"What's on your mind, Professor?"

"Honestly? This isn't what I expected. I imagined you would live in a sleek, modern building with lots of light and open space."

"Good to know I've still got it," Stella joked, parking her suitcase against the wall for the time being. "It's just me, I don't see any sense in keeping an expensive apartment I don't get to see much."

"You sleep in a cot in your office here also?"

"Maybe."

"I guess it makes sense, though."

"What do you mean?"

"There aren't many hiding places. You have command of your space. It's a nice little hidey hole. It is more 'you' than what I had initially imagined."

"Is that good thing or am I a basket case?"

"I think it's a good thing. It suits you." She grinned and said, "I can just imagine you curling up in here like a kitten, master of your domain."

"Does the entire world see me as a control freak?"

"Likely only the ones who find themselves in your crosshairs. And I heard about your marksmanship. Center mass, very impressive."

"Shooting to kill isn't just an American thing anymore," Stella remarked wryly, "And God knows I have no interest in getting killed or maimed by some idiot with illegally obtained firearm."

"I wouldn't want that either. I like my Stella in one piece."

An eyebrow reached for the sky. "Your Stella, huh? That's an interesting twist, all things considered."

"If nothing else, you are my friend."

"I have to meet with the social worker in an hour. Lucky for us, it's not far from here."

Suddenly, like a two-by-four to the face, it occurred to Reed why Stella lived in this neighborhood. "This was Caroline's neighborhood, wasn't it?"

Stella, who had always had issues with meeting the eyes of a familiar or an intimate, simply nodded, keeping her gaze averted, her fingers plucking at her jacket. Tanya noticed all of this, another suspicion confirmed. Stella Gibson wasn't the paragon of confidence she projected to the world, but her mask was impeccable and she had to commend her on a command performance. Reed would never call her out on something so deeply personal, a facade created by a girl in a desperate circumstance that the woman still needed to keep herself together.

"Given everything your family has been through, there is no shame in wanting to keep an eye on her. Especially with an infant in the mix. She doesn't seem to have good judgement when it comes to men."

"She's not unlike her mother, in that respect."

"What does that mean?"

Her voice small and strained, she said, "I can't do this now, Reed, and I sure as hell can't do it sober."

"You don't have to discuss anything you don't want to. I'm not demanding answers of you. I am curious, but I'm a scientist, I don't like a good mystery."

"Obviously you do if you're still hanging out with me," Gibson teased.

"Actually, I think Stella Gibson is weary and Spector brought that sharply into focus, more so than you were comfortable with. I believe that all this time you have known something was bothering you, but were unable to see what it was. Which isn't uncommon-people are often blinded to their deepest longings or desires or stressors. They don't know what they want or why, just that they are in need of something. Something about him triggered something in you."

"And now I know exactly what that something was. Subject change, please."

Sensing her friend's distress, she suggested, "Why don't we go? We can get there early and grab some coffee."

"That's a good idea."

Thirty minutes later, the arrived at the nondescript social services building. The receptionist greeted Stella warmly, having seen her multiple times in the course of her cases and personal visits. She invited them to sit while she notified the social worker of her arrival. 

Minutes later, a willowy black woman appeared, her wide smile exposing a perfect white smile and deep dimples in her cheeks. She opened her arms as she approached, pulling a grinning Gibson into her embrace and rocking her side to side. She stroked Stella's white blonde hair and whispered in her ear, eliciting a soft chuff of laughter. The women broke apart and Gibson introduced the two women.

"Portia, I was contacted by a Greta Parker. I thought she was overseeing this case."

"She was. But she had a family emergency, and they redistributed her caseload. I was lucky enough to draw yours."

"Wouldn't it be perceived as a conflict of interest?"

"Only if they knew and if I was planning on going easy on you. But when have I ever let you off the hook, Starshine?"

"Never," Gibson snorted and rolled her eyes.

She motioned for the other two women to follow her. She led them through a maze of hallways to the back of the building on the first floor, cheerfully ushering them into her office. It was decorated with children's artwork, her degrees framed and displayed, photographs of her with various children of all races. Portia closed the door behind them and got right down to business.

"Are you partners? Because I'll need background on you as well and there is paperwork for you to fill out. I'll also need your consent to run a background check."

"Oh no, Portia, Reed is just a friend. Professor Tanya Reed Smith, this is Portia Stone. Reed's here to lend moral support."

"I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass either of you."

"Not at all," Tanya said, smiling warmly.

"You know me better than that."

"All right then, let's get down to brass tacks." She opened a folder with her department's official seal stamped on the cover and began to read. "I take it Greta made you aware that both Caroline and Gareth are deceased."

"Christ, Gareth as well? No, I had no idea. I just assumed given his history, he would never be considered for guardianship."

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news."

"It's not bad news, actually."

"Moving on then. I know you were granted visitation of the other minor children and it seems that Greta has been keeping up with you, that's why she called to offer you a chance at custody of Daysia. From what she said, she felt horrible that you were denied custody of the older three. She noted that after seeing you with them, you would have been a wonderful mother, but you were cognizant that your rank on the force at the time would be a serious impediment and understood that you would have to resign and seek other employment to impress the panel enough to grant guardianship and eventually full custody."

"Yes, that is true. But I wasn't confident that any other employment would offer the benefits my current job offers, nor was I certain I could provide comfortably for them. I would be starting over from scratch and honestly, I wasn't at all happy with that idea. I felt it would be better to let them go and seek visitation with them than to potentially put everything at risk on a long shot."

"I will note that in my report. It establishes that you had given the matter thought and had explored avenues that would make you more appealing as a candidate. But today, I'd like to talk to you and find out more about why you think you would be a good guardian for Daysia."

"Aside from the fact that I'm her only living blood relative? I guess that would be the fact that I helped raise her. I know her favorite lullaby, her favorite story, which blankie she sleeps with and Lamby is her favorite plushy to hold when she's fussy. She's still teething, so she prefers the jelly ring frozen and not room temperature. I know Huggies diapers fit her better and rocking her to sleep puts her out like a light.

"I want what's best for her, even if that means it isn't me. I love that little girl like she was my own. And since you know my history, Portia, I know you know how much this means to me."

The woman nodded, understanding instantly that the Indian woman has no clue about Stella's whole backstory, probably just the parts that the blonde is willing to give up. The least painful parts, that is. "I have already spoken with your supervisor, Stella, and you were given a platinum review. I feel completely confident in you and your ability to create a warm, safe, structured environment for a child. The next step is emergency placement and then home observation."

"You're going to give me a chance?"

"Did you really doubt I would?"

"Well, yes, honestly."

"I'll get the paperwork together and get a judge's approval. I'll call you when you can pick Daysia up from her emergency caregiver. After a settling in period, I'll drop by for a scheduled visit."

"Thank you, Portia."

"There's no need. I think everyone in this office knows this is a much better chance at a life for that little girl, but you also know what it takes to separate a child from its biological parents, no matter how sorry they are."

"I do."

"So, are you back from Ireland for good now?"

"I'm currently pulling desk detail until the case is wrapped up and sent to the prosecution. I'll have to go back for the trial because I'll have to testify. There are a few things I have to wrap up, but I can talk with the ACC, maybe I can take care of them from here."

"Are you going to be in the field?"

"No, it's paperwork, administrative tasks."

"There's no reason you can't take her with you, if you want to, of course. I think it would be a good thing. You would be dependent on each other, it would be a bonding moment."

"It will be a "sink or swim" moment, Portia. Who do you think you're bullshitting?"

"Yeah, you got me. But I'm trusting you to take Daysia, to spend quality time with her, and to prove to the court you can be a DSI and a mother."

"Take the chance, Stella," Reed said in a soft, urgent tone. "If you leave her behind, what if this is your only chance? The court could view this as you placing your job above the welfare of the child."

"All right, I'll do it. But Reed, I may need your help. I've never cared for a baby for an extended period of time."

"I didn't just hear that, Stells."

"Portia, you know it's the truth. Is it wrong to ask a mother of two for guidance?"

"Mother of two, you said? Well, that changes everything! It's a mommy and me class!"

"I hate you right now." Stella rose, gesturing for Reed to follow her.

"Kisses, sweetie," Portia called after them, laughing.

^*^*

"Stells?"

"We've known each other for a long time."

"You were lovers, huh?"

"For a time. But we wanted different things. As in, she doesn't want children, and I was trying to get custody of my niece and nephews. It was the end of us."

"I'm sorry." Reed put a hand on Gibson's arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"It's fine."'

"It isn't, but we'll table that for now. Right now, we have to focus on getting this place ready for a baby. And I know you may not like it, but you're going to have to get a bigger place. A child needs a space to call their own, and it isn't the living room. You're going to want a sanctuary of your own also, trust me on this."

"Christ, what am I doing, Reed? I can't raise a baby!"

"Is that what happened last time? Did you back out?"

"No, I didn't. I wanted those kids desperately and I was devastated when the judge ruled against me. But I'm a ten years older now and I'll be a senior citizen by the time she's eighteen. Do I really have it in me to deal with a teenager in my golden years?"

"Stella Gibson, giving up? I never thought I'd see the day. But sure, you can give up. The judge hasn't signed off on anything yet, you can call Portia and tell her the deal is off."

"No, you're right. I'm just feeling overwhelmed by all of the changes."

"Good. Do you have keys to Caroline's apartment? Are we allowed to get in a get Daysia's things?"

"It shouldn't be a problem. It's not a crime scene, as far as I know. They would provide for her immediate needs while the apartment was being searched by the police. I'm not making any promises that anything Caroline had for her will make the cut."

"Don't be such a snob. Babies outgrow cribs faster than you realize. Do you honestly want to buy a new crib she will only use for another year and a half or so?"

"Why don't go see what she's got first, then we can start arguing about what we need. And remember, I've already seen it."

"What's this 'we' business?"

Smirking, Gibson parked the car in front of a dirty building. Reed looked at her from the corner of her eye, wondering how her niece had turned out the way she had with an example like Stella before her. The two women exited the car and she followed the blonde to the stoop, where three young men sat, smoking and sharing a bottle. They leered at the two women and began making explicit comments as they approached.

"Do I need to run you three in again? As I recall, you didn't like the handcuffs too well the last time."

"That was police brutality, bitch."

"Oh, I hadn't begun to brutalize you, but I can make it happen this time if you're that eager to have your ass kicked by a woman."

"Got your knickers in quite a twist, haven't you?"

"I think you're a little confused. You seem to be the one looking for a fight. With a homicide detective," Reed interjected with a smirk.

"Homicide? Like, them fools who was whacked last night?"

"Just like," Gibson stated coldly.

"That why was you here the other day? Caro and Gareth were good people, bitch."

"Hey, bitch, Caroline was my niece. I was visiting her and the baby. If she would have washed her hands of Gareth for good, she might still be alive." Stella took a step back and exhaled harshly. "Instead of acting like thugs, why don't you do something constructive with your lives? Finish school, get good jobs, raise a family? Why don't you care about making the world a better place?"

The boys were mollified by her outburst and quickly dispersed, slightly fearful of the look in her stormy blue-grey eyes. Sensing the other woman's agitation, Reed links her arm with Stella's, gently urging her forward. Lowering her head, she allowed herself to be led, and quietly directed the dark-headed woman to the apartment. They were both surprised to see a uniformed police officer standing guard. Flashing her ID, they were allowed inside.

Once inside, Tanya looked around, feeling sorrow and a small measure of disgust. The place was dirty, the furniture looked like it had been salvaged from a landfill, there was an odor of fried food, body odor and something rancid. She watched the blonde from the corner of her eye, quickly noting the impassive look on her face, recognizing the visage of DSI Gibson, not Aunt Stella.

"Where is Daysia's room?"

"Hmm? Oh, it's this room here." She led the way to the nursery, stopping dead in the doorway as she surveyed the mess. And the crime techs working the room. "That stupid fuck."

"What?"

Stepping aside, she allowed Reed to look into the room. With wide eyes, she stared at the open boxes scattered on the floor. Based on the chemical names on them, it was obvious Gareth, and probably Caroline, were in the drug making business. There were bags containing scales, boxes of baggies, a mortar and pestle and other paraphernalia, but the drugs were not in sight, most likely already boxed by the techs for shipment because the apartment showed no indications of being broken into.

"You were right."

"Never in my life have I wanted to be so wrong. Damn her. She lied to me, right to my face!"

"Let's not focus on that, let's focus on what, if anything, we can salvage for your niece."

^*^*

Tanya watched helplessly as Stella drank. She wasn't sipping, she was downing shots. It was obvious she wanted to forget, that was why she had privately decided to stay sober while the blonde drank her weight in whiskey. Stella had taken her to the local watering hole, a place where everyone knew who she was and avoided her, save the bartender. It obviously wasn't the kind of place Stella hung out it, it was convenient and close to her apartment, because it was pretty clear she planned on stumbling home.

"Stella," the burly bartender rumbled, merely looking at her.

"Don't, Warrick, I have someone to drag me home tonight."

"How many times have I told you not to call me that? You know I hate that name."

"It's your name. I busted you enough when you were a kid, I know I'll never forget it," she smirked.

"Bitch," he said affectionately, pouring her another shot. He looked over at Reed and said, "What's your name, babe?"

"Tanya. What do you like to be called?"

"They call me Potts, s'my last name."

"Nice to meet you, Potts."

"Where did you find Stella here? Or did she find you?"

"Actually, we met in Belfast."

"The strangler case? You a cop too?"

"Yes, and no, I'm a pathologist."

"You cut up dead people?"

"I do."

"Sheesh, how'd a gorgeous lady like you get into that?"

"Don't fall for it, Reed. He tried that same bullshit with me the first time I arrested him. Ol' Pottsie here fancies himself a charmer."

"Not every lady is a ballbreaker like you, Stells," he grinned and winked.

She scowled at him, putting her shot glass down with a snap. "I'll kick your ass, Potts."

"I rest my case."

"Stella, calm down," Reed murmured, resting a hand on the other woman's forearm. "He's teasing you."

"I never said you could call me Stells either," she grumbled.

"I didn't realize permission was required."

Morose, Gibson muttered, "It isn't. I'm sorry for being such a bitch."

"Don't worry, you know I won't hold it against you."

"I know. You're a good man, Pottsie, a better friend than I deserve."

"It's not as bad as all that, is it darlin'?"

"She's intoxicated and upset over this case in Belfast," Reed said quietly, giving him a pointed look. "Don't read too much into this, okay?"

"I'm not like the other shits in here. I like her. I care about her. And I look after her when she comes in here, even though it pisses her off," he hissed back at her, offended by the suggestion he would betray her.

"I'm sorry, Potts, I didn't mean to accuse you of betraying her, I wanted to warn you that she's just a little lost right now. The case affected her, affected all of us, in ways we could never have foreseen."

"I heard she also wants to adopt little Daysia."

"I do. I will." The stubborn set of her jaw, and knowing her as they do, they don't doubt that she will do just that. Heaven help anyone or anything that tried to stand in Stella Gibson's way. "It didn't affect me, Reed, and don't make me sound like some mewling titty baby."

Reed looked at her in astonishment, her gaze shifting to Potts' laughing face. It was unheard of for the blonde to make such comments, the likes of which she hadn't heard since childhood, and she wondered was this the real Stella Gibson talking? Was the upper crust accent and couture just another layer to the facade she hid behind, as Reed suspected?

"I would never suggest such a thing." Reed exchanged a glance with Pottsie and turned to Stella. "Want another drink?"

Gibson smirked at her friend, motioning to Pottsie for another, her gaze never wavering from Reed's. "Are you hoping I'll get drunk and slutty, Professor?"

Reed retorted with a roll of her eyes, "You caught me, Detective Superintendent. My next option is to slip you a roofie."

"I knew you wanted me. Seriously though, I'm a sure thing, you didn't have to resort to all this subterfuge."

Potts roared with laughter. These two women played magnificently off of one another and under different circumstances, he would love to egg on their banter. Tonight there was a darkness in Stella he had seen before, but it was always connected with one of her uglier cases. He knew she would take the news of Caroline's death hard, but not this hard. She hadn't taken the death of her sister this badly and the two of them were thick as thieves. While everyone had heard from one source or another about the friction between Stella and her niece, there was no doubt the older woman loved her. No one had put their ass on the line for her like Stella had, and had done so more than once. She was rewarded for her efforts with lies, half-truths, and rejections.

"So, Stells, how much more are you planning to drink? I'm not judging, I'm just curious." Reed fixed her with an inquisitive look.

"I may drink this place dry."

"And I believe she could do it," Potts said with a grin. "But I don't think that would be a safe thing for you to do tonight."

"Oh really. And why is that?"

"I heard a rumor that Gareth's friends are quite pissed off that their little operation was seized by the police before they had a chance to move it. I heard they think a certain someone's aunt tipped off her cop buddies."

"I was in fucking Ireland. I didn't even know what had happened until the Met contacted me through the PSNI," she protested, knocking back another shot angrily.

"I know. Ed came in here, guess someone told him you like to hang out in here. He asked me if I knew you and I told him yes, of course, you live in the neighborhood and stop in sometimes. He was surprised to learn you live down here, but I explained that you stay here to keep an eye on your nieces."

"Christ, Pottsie, why do you have to give out information?" In her heart, she is deeply touched that this man cares enough to try to defend her. She offered a soft look and touched his hand, murmuring, "Thank you for standing up for me, even though it's not really necessary."

"That's what friends do, Stells. I don't know if you've shut them out or just never had real friends, but we are and we care about you."

"What he said," Tanya seconded, smiling at her.

"Well, thanks guys, but I don't need someone to take care of me."

"No one said you needed a caretaker. But we all need someone to watch our backs from time to time."

"Another country heard from," Stella drawled and turned on her bar stool, finding herself face to face with Portia. "For fuck's sake, are you spying on me? Is this what social services really does with their time?"

"You weren't answering your phone, smart ass," the woman of Haitian descent snapped, nodding her at Reed in greeting. "The judge has granted you custody. So get some fucking coffee in you and I'll take you to pick up your niece."

"You'll take us, Portia," Tanya corrected, giving Gibson's forearm a supportive squeeze. "I'm going with her."

"My apologies, Doctor, I'm not-she knows exactly how to push my buttons, and she knew this stunt would piss me off to no end."

Rising, Tanya stepped close to the social worker and murmured in her ear, "She's stressed and desperately trying not to show it. I indulged her because I didn't think the ruling would come through this quickly. So, please don't blame her, and don't be hard on her. She is strong, but not unbreakable."

"Don't let my irritation with her mislead you. I do care about her, I always will. Stella was the love of my life, but we just didn't want the same things, and that is difficult to overcome."

"You don't have to explain things to me, I understand how complicated relationships can be. I'm going through a divorce myself."

"I just wish...never mind. Let's pour a pot of coffee down her throat, get her some gum, and get her settled in with the baby."

"Let's go."

Stella loudly demanded, "Are you two finished with your private conversation?" She was standing a short distance away with a large black reusable tumbler with skulls on it. She lifted it in salute and said, "Courtesy of our pal, Pottsie."

"Let's roll then."

^*^*

Reed laughed quietly at the sight of Stella holding the baby carrier at arm's length as if it was a bomb that could detonate at any moment. The blonde glared at her amusement and looked around her apartment, huffed irritably, and sat the carrier on the floor. Looking up, she dared the other woman to challenge her decision, but saw nothing condemning her in face.

"Is this all right? Is she going to get cholera from my carpet?"

"Not as long as you're potty trained."

"Ha ha."

"It's fine, Stella. You can even lay the baby on the floor, provided you put down some kind of padding, a blanket or a play pad. There's no need for you to second guess yourself at every decision."

"I don't want to fuck her life up before she's even had a chance to live."

"You aren't going to. I can't imagine you abusing her in any way. You hide it well, but it's clear to me that you feel things very deeply, and I think this little girl is going to flourish in your care. But you have to put her before everything, ok? Sometimes even your own needs."

"Is that a warning? Don't bring strange men home for a quick roll in the hay?"

"That's always a good rule of thumb, but that isn't what I was referring to. I meant that sometimes the things that you want have to be put off or put aside for the things the child needs or wants. Your life takes a back seat to your child's. And since you're doing this by yourself, you especially have to be available for anything and everything."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that being a single parent, you'll be called for everything from bumps and bruises to nightmares and bad behavior. You will have to drop everything. I didn't want to say all of those things in front of Portia and I didn't want to while you were drinking, because I don't want to discourage you from something I think deep down you really want."

"I have wanted it off and on all of my adult life. I had severe endometriosis and underwent a partial hysterectomy when I was twenty-three to treat it. Of course, these days there are less radical treatments, but at the time, it was a relief."

"That must've been horrible for you to have to make that choice so young."

"When you're that young, you don't appreciate what you've got until it's gone. You don't completely understand the sacrifice you're making, you just want the pain to end."

Daysia began to fuss and Gibson clucked her tongue, speaking to the infant in soothing tones. Reed smiled, it was clear though she had some experience with children, she was a natural. Her instinct was to calm the child, and adeptly unfastened the harness, lifting the girl into her arms, bouncing her slightly on her hip.

"There, now you're a happy girl, aren't you?"

Reed smiled at the picture they made and rested her hand on Gibson's back. "You two are peas in a pod. You'll be just fine with each other to cling to."

"Gibson women cling to no one," Stella said haughtily, though she wore a half-smile.

"Not even each other?"

"Yeah, I guess we do."

^*^*

"If you're uncomfortable sharing the bed, there's the couch. I can sleep there. It's comfortable, I've fallen asleep there many times."

"Will you be uncomfortable sharing a bed? I think that's the more important question. It's your home, not mine."

"You are my guest, so your comfort is paramount."

"I'm comfortable with sharing your bed."

"Aren't you the flirt?"

Reed laughed quietly and sat on the end of the bed beside the blonde. "I'm not trying to make things hard for you, Stella. I want to keep things as light as possible because you're under enough stress."

"You don't have to go out of your way for me, Reed. I don't want you to feel that you have to be someone you're not to make it easier for me."

"Do you really think that cheering up a friend is going out of my way?" Gibson turned her head, but Reed grasped her chin, gently pulling it up. Surprised, Stella met her eyes. "You've never had any real friends, have you?"

"Not since my sister," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

"Well, hold on to your panties, Stella Gibson, you're never getting rid of me now."

Laughing, she wiped away her tears, smiling at the other woman. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"I've been told that before. I take it as a compliment."

"It is." She gave Reed's cheek a gentle, playful pinch, "Crazy people are my favorite."

"Takes one to know one."

"No doubt about that."

"Well, I'm dead on my feet, so I'm going to bed. Make yourself at home if you want to stay up awhile longer, watch tv or whatever because I'm not a light sleeper. I've got my half of the baby monitor if she wakes up or anything. There's food in the kitchen if you get hungry."

"Actually, I think I'm going to go to bed also. I'm pretty tired too, it's been a busy day."

"All right then. I'll let you have first go in the bathroom, all right?"

"Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Absolutely not." She pulled a fresh towel and washcloth from the shelf in her closet, handing them to Reed. "I have great water pressure, so enjoy."

Grinning, Tanya said, "I love a good shower."

Her tone mischievous, Gibson whispered, "It's also got a detachable shower head."

"You're bad."

"And you're a tease."

The brunette laughed and vanished into the bathroom. Stella fell back against the mattress and stared at the ceiling, going over the day's events in her mind. Try as she might to hide it, she was truthfully quite optimistic about her future with Daysia. Smiling at the thought of the child, she wished she had more time with her here at home before they had to return to Belfast, but given the circumstances, the fact that the baby knows her and is comfortable with her, goes a long way.

When Reed returned to Stella's bedroom, she smiled to herself at the sight of the blonde on her side, her hands curled beneath her chin, sleeping the sleep of the dead. As she circled around to the opposite side of the bed, she saw her mouth was opened slightly and a drool stain darkened the pillowcase. Chuckling softly, she shook her head, leaned over Stella to turn off the lamp, and climbed under the covers.

Sometime later, Reed was awakened by the sounds of whimpering. She rolled over and faced Stella, grateful the streetlights illuminated the room somewhat, enabling her to see the pinched look on her face to accompany the sounds that were coming from her. Gently, she runs her fingers through the hair at Stella's crown, hoping to soothe her, but instead it seemed to agitate her further. She began to mumble in distress and thrash around, alarming Reed. Speaking in a soft, calming voice, she reassured the other woman that she was safe and in control. For a moment, she was soothed, then she stiffened suddenly.

She cried out, "No, Seb, don't!"

Reed prayed the baby wouldn't wake and closed her eyes, waiting for the sound of rustling or wailing, but thankfully, she slept on. Gibson, on the other hand, jerked awake, burying her face in her hands, breathing hard. Reed gave her a moment to wake and process before engaging her.

She played with the ends of her hair and asked, "Are you all right?"

"Sorry, bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she said harshly and recoiled, her eyes wide and fearful. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You've been awakened in the middle of the night, you're disoriented and afraid, I wouldn't expect you to do more than react."

"Did I...say anything?"

"You said a name, Seb, and said 'no, don't' then you woke up."

"I haven't dreamed about him for a long time."

"Was that your father?"

"No, he was my first love. Well, I thought he was."

"Oh boy, I remember that drama. Were you still in high school or was this in college?"

"College. He was older. It's a story as old as time. He told me what I wanted to hear and I fell for it."

"God, boys sucked. I'm so glad to be older and wiser now."

"That's why I only fuck men, I don't fuck with them."

"That makes sense, though, after what you've been through. And I'm not suggesting you're weak and helpless, but you were a victim of a horrible crime. Witnessing what you did has broken lesser people, and I don't doubt it left a lasting impression on you."

"You're right, I wasn't always the paragon of strength you see before you today."

Giggling, Reed rested her forehead on Gibson's shoulder. "I find it hard to believe that isn't the case."

"It's true. Try to contain your disbelief and just accept the fact that I'm not perfect."

Laughing uncontrollably now, Reed buried her face in Stella's arm, trying to keep the volume down so she didn't wake the baby. Stella looked at her with a touch of amusement and offense, which only made Reed laugh harder. Turning slightly, Stella quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"It wasn't that funny."

"Yes it was," Reed gasped between giggles. "You should let more people see your silly side. You're really quite funny."

"I'll take that under advisement."

"I'm being serious. You have a great sense of humor."

"Well, thank you."

"You're welcome. Do you feel better now? Would you like to try to sleep some more or are you awake for the night?"

"I'm going to get a drink of water. I'm sorry that I woke you. Please, go back to sleep. Just because I'm awake doesn't mean you have to be."

"I don't mind."

"I'm used to poor sleep, are you?" A guilty look crossed Tanya's face and she shook her head. "That settles it then. More than likely, I'll doze back off on the couch."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. I'll see you in the morning."

She started toward the door, but a throat clearing behind her stopped her. She turned and saw Reed pointing at the baby monitor. Grinning sheepishly, she retrieved the monitor and left the room, pulling the door to the jamb, so Reed wouldn't be disturbed further. Once out in the living room, she checked on Daysia by the light of a nightlight, who was sound asleep in her playpen, and pulled the blanket up over her carefully. 

She padded into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator, taking a swig. Carrying it into the living room, she sat on the couch and pulled a throw around her shoulders, resting her head against the arm. She let her thoughts wander and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.

The following morning, she was awakened by a baby jabbering happily. Rubbing bleary eyes, she sat up and stretched, looking at Daysia's temporary bed. She spotted blonde curls in the middle and stood, making her way over. The baby smiled and kicked her chubby legs with excitement, raising her arms.

"Ma ma ma ma ma," she said, grinning happily.

Picking the child up and snuggling her, she said, "And just what are you saying, Buttercup? Hmm? What secrets are you telling Auntie Stella?"

Frowning, she touched Stella's chest and said firmly, "Ma."

"Ma? Do you think I'm Momma?" She bounced the baby in her arms, smiling happily at the child. "Is that what you think, baby girl?"

"Is she calling you Momma?" Reed smiled, looking positively adorable in her rumpled pajamas and bed head.

"She was saying 'ma ma ma ma', but how she's just calling me 'ma' so I'm not sure that it means anything."

"I don't think she's calling you Momma," Reed said thoughtfully. "Maybe she thinks you're Grandma?"

Stella went white, her knees buckling slightly before she took a halting step to brace herself, resting a protective hand on Daysia's back to support the child. "That's not possible."

Reed didn't miss a beat, pretending not to notice that the blonde had faltered so obviously. "Well, it depends on whether or not Caroline showed her pictures of your sister and how much you look like her."

"Or maybe she taught her that to be cruel," Gibson said quietly, looking at something only she could see.

"Why would she do that? Why would she have any reason to throw that in your face?"

"Who knows what drove Caroline to do any of the things she did?"

"I think you're reading too much into it," Reed murmured, moving closer to her friend, resting a hand on her arm. "You also have to keep in mind she's learning to mimic sounds, it's very possible she doesn't mean anything at all."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's it." She swallowed and flashed a brief, fake smile. "Can you hold her for a minute? I need the restroom."

"Sure, take your time." She accepted the little girl and held her close, making funny faces to elicit peals of laughter. She pretended not to notice how Gibson sped off to the bathroom and shut the door behind her with a bang. "If you only knew how much I wish you could tell me what is going on, sweet girl."

^*^*

The flight back to Belfast was uneventful and relatively quiet. Stella gave her a bottle before they boarded and by the time the plane took off, Daysia was sleeping peacefully. Stella's anxieties skyrocketed as they drew closer because once again, her business was out in the open in Ireland. At least this time it wasn't because of something she had done, but it still rubbed her the wrong way that strangers knew things about her private life without her consent.

They landed and made it through security without a hiccup, even with an infant who was wide awake and jabbering at everyone, playing up her cuteness factor. They were given preferential treatment by several passengers who likely were either parents trying to help them through before the kid lost it or people who wanted them gone before the kid lost it. In turns, it was amusing and a relief because Daysia is generally a happy baby, but when she got fed up, she lost her shit completely. Reed had yet to experience the not-so-adorable side and Stella didn't want that to happen in the middle of a crowded airport.

Within an hour, they were almost to Reed's house (at her insistence) because she could help with the baby. Gibson had already been in touch with Burns and let him know she was back in Belfast, but neglected to mention the baby. She wasn't up for answering a bunch of questions yet and Jim would greedily demand them as if he had a right to know.

As Reed parked in the driveway, she insisted Stella take the baby inside and out of the drizzle that was falling, and handed her the house key. It was the first time she had ever been there and she wandered into the living room, drawn immediately to the pictures on the mantle of the fireplace. A soft smile touched her lips as she gazed at the photographs and she noted that Reed's little girls were absolutely beautiful, like their mother, though their coloring was lighter than hers, leading Stella to conclude their father was likely white.

She turned as the front door opened and bounced Daysia, making her squeal happily. Reed entered the room, smiling.

"This is it, not much to see."

"Better than my crappy hovel."

"It just needs some attention."

"Right. I guess this means I'll be spending more time there, so I have no excuses."

"Exactly. And I can help you out if you like."

"That would probably be a good idea, I'm horrible with the domestic thing."

"Which parts of the domestic thing?"

"Interior decorating, cooking, sometimes cleaning, being at home in a timely manner and an inability to focus on things outside of work, to name a few."

"So, basically the whole domestic enchilada."

"Pretty much, yeah." Stella looked at the other woman meekly and dropped a kiss on the baby's hair. "Am I beyond saving?"

"I don't think so. I don't think basic housekeeping is beyond anyone, it's simply a lack of will."

Stella pointed at her and said, "That's it, that's the malady I suffer from. Is there a known cure?"

"Yes, a child who will soon be mobile and dragging everything she can into the floor on a daily basis. And your task, should you choose to accept this mission, is to keep your home tidy."

"God, this whole motherhood thing just keeps getting worse and worse! I don't know that I'm up to this mission, Reed. Can't love be enough?"

"Uh, no, not unless you want Child Services to arrest you for neglect. I know cops in prison don't fare so well, and neither do people who commit crimes against kids."

"A dirty house isn't a crime."

"No, but that in conjunction with a parent who's never there physically or emotionally is a crime."

Stella whined and stomped her foot. "This isn't fair. You tricked me."

Redd laughed and said, "I did nothing of the kind. You said you wanted a chance to be a mother and I supported that. It's not my fault you didn't get all the dirty details before making your decision."

"I hate you right now."

"I hate you too."

"Oh my God, what the hell has this kid been eating?" Stella held the child away from her body, staring at her in alarm. "How can something so small stink so badly?"

Reed giggled, covering her mouth. "Yeah, that happens too. Surely you've been around when this little one with a dirty diaper before."

"Yeah, and I handed her right off to Momma."

"Well, guess what, Momma, your number is up."

"Shit."

"In more ways than one."

Daysia began to whimper and arched her back sharply, causing Stella to nearly lose her grip. "Jesus, hold still. Can I just put her on the floor?"

"No, you may not, not without a changing pad. You aren't getting baby shit all over my carpet."

"Can you at least get that going for me? God!"

"The diaper isn't going to spring a leak. You can hold her and rummage."

"Oh great! Some big helper you are."

"You'll have to get used to it eventually. Sink or swim is usually the best way to learn."

"In this moment, I truly, actually do hate you, Reed."

"You'll get over it. C'mon now, you don't want her to start screaming."

"Are you sure this thing won't spring a leak? It smells like she took a massive dump and I'm not confident my dry cleaner will deal with shit residue."

"It very well might if you let her keep wiggling around."

"Shit."

Reaching into the baby bag, she removed the changing pad, laid it on the carpet and placed the baby on her back. She struggled to remove the overalls from the squirming baby, cursing her decision to put them on that morning because they were just soooo adorable. When they were half off, Reed cleared her throat and pointed out that there was a reason Osh Kosh put a snap crotch in. Cursing louder, Gibson unsnapped the crotch and tried not to throw up as she changed the horribly stinky diaper. Taking pity, Tanya began to offer advice and instructions about making sure the baby's bottom was completely clean to avoid diaper rash. She even demonstrated the best and easiest way to wrap a soiled diaper to avoid disgusting accidents.

After the baby was freshly diapered and her clothing righted, Stella spread out a blanket on the living room floor and deposited her on it. She laid out a variety of toys for Daysia to chew on and collapsed onto the sofa, spread-eagle, which is how Reed found her when she returned to the room. She pressed her lips together and took a seat on the arm of the couch, looking down at her friend.

"So, what do you think about motherhood so far?"

"It's exhausting. I'd rather chase a perp for four blocks in the dark, in the pouring rain, wearing 'fuck me' pumps and a cocktail dress."

"So, you've given this some thought."

"I have. Portia was right, I have no business raising kids."

"When did she tell you this?"

"When I tried to get custody of the older children. She already knew what I had blinded myself to."

"Actually, I think that was more about dissuading you from the idea because she didn't want children than a judgment on your actual parenting skills. I've seen you with Daysia and I heard about how good you were with Olivia Spector."

"Those are just short periods of time and then I make the handoff. I can do short periods of time."

"You just need an adjustment period. Before you know it, you'll be looking back and laughing about your anxieties about raising a child."

"I don't have anxieties, Reed," she stated haughtily, wiping her sweaty palms on the legs of her pants. "I have fears, real fears, the kind that make you have a heart attack from the fear and stress of your fears."

"Stella, calm down," Reed said, her voice soft and soothing, "You're getting yourself all worked up. You hunt evil people for a living, and you're exceptional at it. If you can do that, you certainly have the ability to raise a baby."


End file.
